Played

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Weston

This is the worst date I’ve gone on in my entire life.

Sitting across from me is likely the world’s most uptight, stereotypical daddy’s little girl turned adult I’ve ever come in contact with, hands down.

There’s no denying she’s gorgeous, but if I have to listen to her tell one more story about makeup, shopping, or something she did with her father or “gal-pals” from high school, I’ll stab myself in the eye with the salad fork.

Wait, we’re not even to the main course yet? A look at my watch verifies the order for our entrees only took place a mere five minutes ago.

Fucking hell.

The woman currently boring me to death is none other than Alicia Hamish. She comes from old money, which is the exact reason my mother set up this lovely date without my input.

My phone buzzes, and while generally, I won’t check it during a date, it isn’t as though Alicia will notice. She hasn’t bothered taking her eyes off of her phone for more than a couple seconds at a time.

Glancing down, I’m wishing I hadn’t bothered upon seeing the cringe-worthy text from my mother, “Hope everything is going well! You two would make pretty grand-babies ;)…”

I’m definitely not going to respond to that text message, finding it hard to believe she thinks this woman perfect for a motherly role.

Admittedly, I went on this date with optimism, despite the fact my mother set it up, as she normally has fabulous taste in pretty much everything. However, there’s no f*****g doubt we share vastly different tastes in spousal appeal — not that I have any intention of getting married anytime soon.

I enjoy the single life, and it will take a special woman to make me consider relinquishing my bachelor status.

Yet, I glance at Alicia, attempting to find something appealing about her, if only for my mother’s sake, as she’ll instinctively know whether or not I’ve given the woman a fair shot.

Fair is to admit how attractive Alicia is — sexy even. She has long brunette hair with not a single hair out of place and a face most women I’m acquainted with would pay to possess. Her fingers are perfectly manicured, nails matching the gorgeous designer dress clinging to her perfectly curvaceous form.

The kind of woman people would expect a self-made billionaire such as me to marry? Undoubtedly. It’s her personality that’s questionable and makes it unlikely we’ll have more than tonight’s dinner together.

“Oh, wow, Weston,” she says suddenly, face turning red as her gaze boldly meets his. “How rude of me to talk about myself this whole time. I would love to know more about what you do, so perhaps you’ll tell me more about your work?”

Usually, I like when a woman talks about her life and interests, but the way Alicia’s done it so far this evening has been incredibly off-putting.

So, grateful she’s finished yammering on about herself as if trying to sell something to me, I take a deep breath and smile at her despite my desire to escape from her presence without delay. “Absolutely. Covington Industries is a tech start-up company. Studying the market and investing in projects we believe will have broad appeal is our primary focus.”

“Anything I’d recognize?”

With a chuckle, I nod, because most people have no idea about the number of companies getting their start with an investment from Covington Industries. “I’ll bet you have a few of our apps on your phone. We do a little of everything, though, not just apps. We’re leading the way in software engineering, and even beginning to dabble in the astrological field, as well as designing some things for NASA now too.”

“Impressive,” she says, leaning forward slightly to stare at me. “I had a roommate in college who wanted to work for NASA as an engineer.”

“That’s a great goal. Did she achieve it?”

“I don’t know.” She pulls out a compact of makeup to re-powder her nose. “We lost touch after I dropped out.”

Of course, she did. College degrees have nothing to do with landing a wealthy husband. “I see.”

She doesn’t seem to notice the disdain in my tone, smiling brightly as she drops the compact back into her purse and goes back to talking about herself once more.

I barely register the stories she tells about her brief days at University and her sorority. Naturally, she has many stories to tell there.

When my phone goes off again, I choose to ignore it, as there’s nothing reassuring I can say to my mother if she’s the one texting me once again. She’ll be disappointed when I veto her choice in a potential daughter-in-law.

Alicia is a joke. At the minimum, she’s annoying; a spoiled lifelong daddy’s girl now seeking a substitute man to continue overindulging her, and she won’t find what she’s looking for with me.

Finally, the entrees arrived, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the small dish she ordered; she should’ve just eaten a larger salad.

She picks at her plate, while I dig into my food just so my mouth will be too full to engage in any conversation — as if I’m getting a word in edgewise.

She regales me with the time her father took her sailing as a kid, and how much she loved it, which is why she had gotten her own boat on her thirteenth birthday.

“You sail?” I ask when she pauses, thinking this will at least be a more interesting topic of conversation and perhaps sailing together will be a more interesting date than tonight has been.

But she says, “Oh, no. When I wanted to go out on the bay, my daddy hired someone to take me.”

It takes all the self-control I have to once again not roll my eyes at her, even more so when she flicks her eyes down at my phone and points a finger at it. “It’s blinking.”

Obviously, not immediately answering a text message seems like absolute madness to her, and although I don’t give a s**t, I pick up my phone just to avoid dealing with her for another minute or two.

The message isn’t from my mother, but Shayne Barre, my buoyant intern-turned-assistant. Shayne had been an intern at Covington Industries and excelled at his position. So, in his junior year of college, I hired him as a part-time assistant, and he went to full-time after graduating two years ago.

His text makes me smile. “So? Need that rescue tonight?”

I like this kid. He’s smart, helpful, and hilarious when necessary. “Yes, please. Do what you do best.”

Even better, his response is instant. “I’ll make it good. Turn up your phone, so she doesn’t miss the show.”

Biting my tongue to keep from laughing, I turn up the ringer volume so Alicia can’t miss Shayne’s theatrics. I would just put it on speakerphone for the full effect, but I’m not sure what he has in mind, and there are a lot of other people inside the restaurant having dinner who may not be as amused.

The phone starts ringing, and I cut Alicia off mid-sentence to say, “I’m sorry, my assistant is calling. Do you mind if I take this call?”

She flips her hair over her shoulder and gives a casual wave of her hand. “Of course not. Go on.”

The moment I answer the phone, a hysterical sounding Shayne begins sobbing in my ear. “Oh my God, Mr. Covington! I’m afraid you’re needed at the office right away!”

“Shayne, calm down.” It’s hard not to smile as Shayne’s real sounding panic, especially when Alicia perks ups in an attempt to hear the conversation. “Why are you calling me? What’s wrong?”

“This s**t is crazy!” Shayne takes in a shuddering breath, playing his part well to the point I really need to consider giving him another raise for a job well done. “A man is here, claiming we stole an idea from him. He’s causing a huge scene, and now he’s threatening to call the police, as well as hire a team of lawyers to — and I quote — ‘sue our sorry little asses off!’ What should I do?”

“All right, Shayne, take a breath and try to remain calm. I’ll take care of it — you let him know the CEO is on his way. Give me twenty minutes.” I hang up the phone and focus on Alicia with a fake frown, relieved to have a reason to escape her company without coming up with a valid excuse. “Much as I hate to cut our evening short, there is a crisis at work only I can take care of.”

“I understand.” Alicia shrugs and stabs at her food with the fork, a cheerful smile gracing her face. “Your assistant seemed pretty upset.”

“Yes, well, Shayne tends to overreact at times, but I want to make certain everything is fine.”

“Of course. We’ll speak later?”

Even with no intention of going on another date with her, I do appreciate her understanding, and for that, I agree to something I probably shouldn’t. “Yes. You have my number.”

Again, another brilliant smile from her as she stands and grabs her jacket from the back of her chair. “I do. Have a good night, Weston.”

“Goodnight.”

After quickly paying the check, I thank Alicia for the date, grab her a cab, and then hurry over to where Shayne stands waiting in the parking lot by the company car.

“She looked dull,” Shayne says as I clasp his shoulder in my hand with a grin.

“I owe you, kid.” Laughing, I slide into the passenger’s seat of the car, and Shayne starts up the engine. I find it difficult to stop laughing, unable to believe how crazy Shayne can sometimes be. “Honestly, you sounded like you were legitimately crying from panic.”

Shayne winks. “I minored in theater, remember?”

“Yeah, why exactly did you do that?” I ask while leaning back in my seat, thankful to be away from Alicia Hamish for the time being.

“Those improv lessons are really beneficial whenever I screw up at work and need help figuring out something to tell you,” he jokes, and I give him a friendly punch in the arm.

We head straight for Covington Industries, and I can’t possibly be more thankful for the emergency rescue; I’m ready to get back to the office after such a disastrous date and hope there aren’t any more run-ins with her after tonight.